


theatre number 12

by softnow



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fictober, movie theatre fingering, you know...casual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softnow/pseuds/softnow
Summary: they’re going to get kicked out. lifetime banned. one usher with his flashlight pointed the right way and it’s bye-bye half-priced sunday matinees.





	theatre number 12

**Author's Note:**

> fictober day 5!

They’re going to get kicked out. Lifetime banned. One usher with his flashlight pointed the right way and it’s bye-bye half-priced Sunday matinees.

She doesn’t fucking care.

_Can’t_  fucking care, not when he’s two fingers deep, palm to her clit, grinding her so perfectly she could cry.

“Mulder—”

“Shhh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”

A third finger and she’s flying, bucking, biting her lip to keep from groaning. There are people  _right there_. Two rows up. Not even ten feet away. Oblivious to her getting fingerfucked into the stratosphere.

He nuzzles her hair, kisses her ear. “You’re so  _wet_ , Scully, Christ. I can’t believe how much you like this.”

_She_  can’t believe nobody can hear it, the sloppy-slick sound of his hand moving beneath her skirt. She can’t believe she’s about to come in public.

“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh my god.”

“That’s it, baby. That’s right.” He adjusts the angle, hitting her even deeper, and she feels herself gush around him. “Make a fucking mess for me right here.”

It’s so wrong. So, so wrong. But one, two, three more strokes and she’s unraveling, convulsing, sinking her teeth into the flesh of her palm to keep silent. Her pussy spasms in his hand and he fucks her through it, draws it out, bites her neck so hard she shudders again. It’s so good it almost hurts.

She comes down slowly and he stays between her legs, strokes her overheated skin as she trembles, boneless, in her seat. Her thighs are sticky and it will be uncomfortable later, but she can’t find the energy to go clean up. She is perfectly docile, a drowsy house cat in his palm.

Mulder turns his attention back to the screen and she lets her eyes slip shut, leans her head on his shoulder and breathes deeply.

He wakes her as the credits roll and asks her, when they emerge into the sunlight, what she thought of the movie. She can’t remember a single plot point. She can’t even remember the title. She thinks it might be her new favorite.


End file.
